


Star-Crossed Obsession

by Yanderes_and_Other_Poor_Life_Choices



Category: Hellsing, Hellsing Ultimate
Genre: F/M, Obsessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Time Travel, Witchcraft, Yandere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28163007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yanderes_and_Other_Poor_Life_Choices/pseuds/Yanderes_and_Other_Poor_Life_Choices
Summary: All magic comes with consequences, and you, a time-travelling witch who accidentally rewrote history while trying to complete a university assignment, will learn that.
Relationships: Alucard (Hellsing)/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The story is based on a request on Tumblr:
> 
> "Ok, so a Yandere Alucard with an immortal time travelling witch who accidentally rewrote history when one day she time travels and meets Vlad the Impaler. Dracula falls in obsessed love with her, but she goes back to her time leaving him, and that changes history like he didn't go after Mina. His love/obsession for a mysterious woman is a historical fact ect, but Integra finds her in the current time+recruit her to Hellsing, but she has no idea she changed history around Vlad/Dracula/Alucard."
> 
> The only things I'm changing is the Mina part and the immortal part. Mina is the reason why Alucard is a tool to the Hellsing bloodline as they used her to trap him. So, I'm changing it, so now Alucard went after Mina because she reminded him of the reader. Also, the reader doesn't start as an immortal.
> 
> I'm pretty sure the Anon just wanted a headcanon, but I really liked the idea. So this fic starts before the main canon plot and goes into the canon story with a Yandere twist. Hope you enjoy! Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ

History is a narrow flashlight in a darkened room, only granting sight of some artefacts, hiding others. As a temporal witch, you can turn all the lights on, giving a plain view of the good, the bad and the ugly...

But as a university student, you’re stressing over an assessment on a topic you regret picking.

Sitting at the desk of your dorm room, you massage your throbbing temples, pain gained from the bright screen of your laptop. The words of your assessment seem to blur together; it’s so close to being completed, it is laughable, but your thoughts are groggy.

But your tiredness isn’t the worse part; it’s the different portrayals of historical figure you choose to write about.

To many, Vlad the Impaler was a man with a tremendous appetite for cruelty who created panic and disarray within his enemies by impaling his victims on sharp spikes. But some historians argue he was justified in using strong-arm tactics, as the Medieval times were far crueller and more violent. Vlad also succeeded where others failed - he created order and justice in a country which was previously lawless.

This is the challenge you unknowingly put on yourself when you pick him to write about; to sift through all the materials, examining the motives of those who wrote the source, to produce a balanced account. It seems impossible.

There’s a straightforward solution that would easily fix your problem, but you have mixed feelings.

Pushing yourself away from your desk chair, you walk over to the bookshelf filled with inky treasures. Most of the books look brand new despite being made hundreds of years ago. You take a small box from between two novels and open it. Lying inside is a watch, you can see the cogs working within, turning. The watch must have had a great number of straps over the years, passed down from centuries of time-travelling witches, yet the machine itself is perfection in cogs, gold and glass. Within the watch face are three smaller one, each face for a form of time and location. It’s the perfect tool for time-travel as it not only takes you to the time and place you want but also camouflages your clothes, so you better fit in.

The only issue is that there are many dangers in time travel, especially when travelling to Medieval times. And some times you appear in the most random of places... like a prison cell... or the middle of a witch hunt... both times you barely escaped.

But as long as you keep a low profile, you’ll be fine, right?

You place it on your wrist, and as soon as you finished fiddling with the crown, you feel cold air rush past you. There’s a moment of dizzy confusion before your eyes open wide in shock; you’re in the air, falling. The ground below you is getting larger and closer. Your brain turns to a mental soup of conflicting instructions until you close your eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

* * *

_Tîrgovişte, capital of Wallachia, 1462_

Vlad III Dracula, Son of the Dragon, walks along the castle wall at a sedate pace. His mind too focused on the soothing lavender and brilliant amber in the sky to notice the smell of rot from those impaled in forests of spikes; a message to would-be attackers. He simply admires the early morning sunrise. After all, he can only see so many. 

That’s when he notices something in the sky, something quickly growing larger and heading towards him.

By the time it’s recognised as a person, he’s already knocked off his feet, falling onto his back. The breath rips from his lungs as hands push on his chest and something solid lands on his stomach.

His wide eyes stare at a pair looking back at him. With your hands on his chest as you straddle his torso, the delicate yellows and reds of the sunrise illuminate around your curves of softness like a halo.

Beautiful.

So beautiful, in fact, it takes a moment for him to notice your lip tremble or lashes brim heavy with tears; your hands clench into his shirt, in a desperate battle against panic before you crumple like a puppet released of their strings, head falling onto his chest.

Dracula’s arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer as he sits up. His gaze turns downward. You’re rather petite and delicate compared to him and have the sort of face that puts him at ease. 

The Impaling Prince looks up at the sky; where did you come from?

Dracula stands, picking you up into his arms when he sees something reflecting the sunlight on the floor. He kneels down and plucks it up, careful to keep a hold on you as he looks at the... bracelet? It strange and is making a ticking sound. He pockets it before walking back into his castle, eyes trailing your figure as he carries you. You’re dressed in a red garment, rich in embroidery. It goes down to your ankles and has long-sleeves which gather at the wrists. One thing that catches his eye is the lack of headdress. It’s normal for a young woman to walk bareheaded, but after the wedding ritual, the godmother puts a beautiful headscarf on the woman’s head. 

_So you’re not married._

The thought sticks in his head as Dracula arrives at his chamber doors and kicks them open, walking into his luxurious room. He places you onto the four-poster bed; the mattress sinks under your weight.

A hand brushes your hair out of your face as a question crosses his mind; why he is allowing you to lie on his sheets. He could just easily drop your unconscious body outside the castle walls; he’s never had mercy before. But he can’t get the image of your eyes glimmering with watery tears out of his mind. The gentle flush of pink arisen in your cheeks that made you look vulnerable as you grasped his shirt, as if begging him to protect you after falling from the sky like an angel.

Perhaps you’re a gift for all that he’s sacrificed to win the upcoming war; his troops and his people, all in the name of getting God himself to intervene in his battle. 

“Ingerasul meu.” Dracula’s hand lowers to run his thumb over your lips, “So soft.” His head leans close to yours-

When there’s a knock on his chamber doors.

His head whips to the direction of the doors, “What!?”

He can almost hear the person shaking on the other side, before a weak voice calls out, “T-two monks from the monastery are here.” Dracula looks back to you, he’ll have time in the future for your lips. For now, he has to deal with affairs, so he leaves to meet with the monks.


	2. Chapter 2

Everything is blurry. Stirring on a soft surface, your eyelashes faintly bat against your lids, clearing your vision. You lie underneath a crimson canopy of silk, debating whether or not to get up; your muscles weak. With a sigh, you sit up in the four-poster bed adorned with red satin sheets, blankets and pillows...

Wait, where are you!?

Eyes wander the circular room; it’s a dream of luxury. Rich red tapestries hang on every wall, a perfectly polished marble floor, and lots of gold leaf decoration. How did you end up here? All you remember is falling. You tremble slightly at the memory, the dried tear-stains apparent on your cheeks. It was terrifying.

But what occurred after that? Why are you in a bedroom? And one of such grandeur. No one could afford such a luxury in this time period. Unless, of course, they’re a noble or royalty... That’s when your eyes land on one particular tapestry with the image of a family crest; _Vlad Tepes’ coat of arms_ **.** In the grip of silent panic, heart racing as your mind comes to one conclusion; this place belongs to Vlad the Impaler, the Voivode of Wallachia.

So much for keeping a low profile. You instantly go for your wristwatch; you can’t stay, not now. The plan was to view from afar, not to end up here... Your fingertips touch your bare wrist; no watch. Panic curls up inside you and clings to your ribs, settling in your chest as you stare at your naked wrist. This can’t be happening! It CAN’T!

The watch is simply a tool; you can return to the present without it. But you’ll have to craft a chant with your specific date and location, and a protective component to stop you from appearing in any walls or _the air._ You’re not the best at chants, hence why you use the wristwatch. But if you were to look for it, where would you start? You don’t remember where you fell to or anything after that. Perhaps you can create a chant to find it? It would be the easiest choice.

A thought flickers to mind. Something your nan told you when you were young:

_“Chants have three rules: they have to describe what you require, they have to rhyme, and they need to have an element of your type of magic in them.”_

You’re a temporal witch, so the chant has to have an element of time. Taking a second, you give it a shot:

“Direct the way… no.”

“Show me to my watch- that sounds weird.”

“Um, what I’ve lost, help me find… my wristwatch of time?”

“Oh! A past belonging, help me find; a witch’s device, my watch of time.” You hold out your hand in shock as a pulsing comes from your fingertips, creating bright light.

You study it flicker, changing colours from amber to ruby, then back to gold. It waltzes from your hand, curling and dancing its way out of the room, and you hesitantly follow it through the massive oak doors. With silent footfalls, you go down a twisting spiral staircase, then through a maze of dimly lit corridors, passing suits of armour, until you reach a dark cavernous hall.

You pause at the sight in front of you, before sinking down behind one of the marble columns. Withdrawing your spell, for now, you observe a towering man sitting upon a throne-like chair at the far end of the room. Power and authority embellishes him like a suit of armour; his midnight-black hair reaches mid-back, wild and unkempt. His features are sensuously cruel. Masculine and kingly, but undoubtedly handsome with prominent cheekbones and a well-defined chin obscured by a short beard and moustache. His face is familiar, but why?

A memory flashes in your mind. The last of your drop from the sky, when you landed on him, his body breaking your fall...

Wait, if this is Vlad’s castle and he’s sitting on a throne, and you landed on him... Oh God, you landed on Vlad III Dracula, one of the most ruthless people in history.

_I’m gonna die! I’m gonna be impaled!_

“Tell me...” Dracula’s indifferent voice echoes, breaking through your momentary panic as he continues speaking, “As men of faith, what do you think of my actions?”

Your eyes shift to the two men standing not that far from him; monks. Wait, you know this story! The monks gave two different answers to his question. The first, in fear, said that God would approve of his methods. However, the second had the moral courage to condemn the cruel prince. In the German pamphlets, Dracula rewarded the sycophantic monk and impaled the honest monk. However, in the version found in Muscovite pamphlets, Dracula rewarded the honest monk for his integrity and courage and impaled the sycophant for his dishonesty.

You lean forward in interest, watching as the monk with a chalk-white face speaks, trying to control the tremor in his voice. “Y-you are appointed by God to punish evil-doers-“

“Don’t be absurd!” The second one yells. There’s tension in his manner with tightness in his face and eyes as he turns his gaze to the Impaler. “You are the greatest tyrant that one may find in the world. I have seen no man who ever reports good of you, and this, you have no doubt proven.”

There’s a moment of silence before Dracula speaks, “You have told me the truth; therefore, I will let you live.” A gasp of shock escapes the first monk as Vlad gestures for guards to retain him. “Take him away and impale him for truth’s sake.” The monk is dragged away while the other is forced to leave.

That answers your curiosity but doesn’t change your predicament. You need to retrieve the watch and get out of here. Sparking up the glow again, the trail continues leading to... Vlad, who holds the watch in his hand, examining it.

_Well, shit._

No, no, it’s not that bad. Maybe you can make another chant...

“You; behind the columns, step out.” Your blood runs cold as Dracula calls out. Thoughts leave you, unable to will your mind to think. What are you supposed to do? You can’t run, he has your watch. So you step out.

Dracula’s breath catches in his throat as he sees that it’s you that comes out of hiding. There’s hesitation in your body movements; your emotions on full display for him on your innocent face. Your hands fidgeting with your sleeves, you try to string along a sentence, “I, um, you see, I-“

“Stop,” The low rumble of Vlad’s voice cuts you off. “You don’t need to say anymore, just come forth.” You walk up to him, stopping a few metres away, feeling the stares of soldiers in the hall. Will you be retained and dragged off too?

“Closer.” He orders with a brazen, yet intimidating voice. You step a few steps closer and stop.

“Closer, ingerasul meu.” Heartbeat racing, nearly exploding, as he orders you again. Stiff walking, your knees locking as you move forward until you’re right in front of him. Despite the fact he’s sitting, your both eye level.

Without looking away from you, he orders, “Everyone leave.” His voice barely raises, but the room is cleared within seconds.

“I see you’re awake,” He murmurs, one of his large hands reaching towards you, hands that could crush your throat so effortlessly. Flinching, you close your eyes until you feel his knuckles gently brushes your cheek. “I’m surprised you managed to make your way down here... But you shouldn’t wander, you may get lost.”

You look at him bewildered. Is this the same man who just sentenced a monk to death, the same man responsible for the deaths of more than 80,000 individuals (as estimated by modern scholars)? You gnaw at the inside of your cheek as waves of panic roll off you, eyes flickering to the watch - something that doesn’t go unnoticed from Vlad.

“Is this yours?” Vlad holds the watch in his outstretched hand in front of your face, fingers curls around its strap just tight enough to keep a grip. Nodding, you reach for it only for him to whip it away. He bites the edge of a smile, a vain attempt to keep his creeping grin at bay. His eyebrows slightly raised as he speaks, “I’ll hold on to this for now.”

The way your mouth drops open and you sputter only arouses him. “But that’s-“ You stutter until an airy breath escapes your kissable lips as he ghosts his hand across your cheek, leaving a trail of tingles. You’re so sensitive for him. He notes it and smirks. It’s enough to fill his ego for now.

“Were you watching? Did you see all of it?” He has more questions for you, like where you came from and how you ended up falling from the sky, but he’ll have time to ask you later.

“Y-yes.”

“So what do you think, ingerasul meu? Tell me your thoughts.”

You immediately freeze up. Vlad won’t take your opinion well, so instead, you ask a question, “Why... Why impale people, your own people?”

A dark look appears on his face as images of his childhood emerge - raised by the Turks, as a prisoner and as a child soldier. His hatred burns against those who wronged him in his youth. He desires their defeat. But his words don’t match his thoughts, “To save my people. God does not help those who kneel before Him. God does not save those who pray for mercy, for those are not true prayers. True prayers are deeds in his name, not words alone. And when the fruits of our prayers lie at our feet, God will descend from His throne and protect my kingdom.”

“You don't believe that.” At your words, he catches your eyes, they’re simply spellbinding, but he’s forced to look away. As when he looks into them, he feels you see more than just his eyes. Like you’re gazing into his soul, scrutinising things inside of which he didn’t want to see himself.

“Do you think words alone will cause him to act?”

You shake your head, “No, but do you really believe that sacrificing your own people, the ones you’re supposed to protect, will gain any favour from God?” 

As you scan his face for a reaction, tension hangs in the air like the suspended moment before a falling glass shatters on the ground. In his silence, you continue. “I mean if you did, wouldn’t you have punished the other monk for lying rather than the one who said that God appointed you to punish evil-doers.”

Fear seeps into your blood and paralyses your brain as he gives no reaction, and you can’t stop yourself from speaking. “I just think that for someone who wants truth, you can’t seem to admit the truth of your own intent to yours-” Your voice is silenced as one of his large hands seizes your cheeks, the other hand slams down on the throne’s arm, you hear a cracking sound, like the crunch of glass as he pulls your face close to his.

“Everything I do is for my country, my kingdom and my people.” As soon as he finishes, it dawns on him he’s still holding onto your ‘bracelet’ - something you also realise as you both look down to the watch in his hand. He grumbles under his breath, tossing the watch somewhere behind his throne, glancing away from you as you immediately go to retrieve it. How pathetic that he reacted in such a manner to your words.

Meanwhile, you pick the watch up - panic written across your face. A crack runs across the glass... but it looks otherwise intact. It’s a stupid thought, but maybe you can still use it?

You strap it on, twirling the crown, and wait as it starts to activate: it looks like it’s still working. Your eyes shift to Vlad, his back facing you. Before you leave, you say one last thing:

“Your people fear you.”

For Dracula, the sick twisting sensation of dread slowly creeps up his spine as he hears the words. He whips around before spiking into debilitating paralysis once he sees you’re no longer there. His face contorts with a venomous outburst as shouting pollutes the air. He’s immediately in search for someone who doesn’t exist yet.

For You, sharp pain laces through your head and colourful spots flash in front of your eyes as your body drops on the mattress of your dorm room. Time travel has never hurt before, but every movement causes some muscle or bone to ache, and searing fiery bursts pulsates around your wrist.

A surge of energy courses through your veins. Eyes glowing gold before your natural colour appears again; You’ve returned home, but at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what happened to the reader at the end of the chapter? Jeez ┐(´ｰ｀)┌ Dunno.  
> Anyway, Merry Christmas (I know it's not Christmas yet, shhh!) and Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoyed the chapter Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ


End file.
